Jarhead: High IQ isn't Always Good

I was sooooo close.

It was probably going to happen. Would it? My brain was stuck in a 'hope but be prepared for failure' mode.

She broke the kiss and said, "I'm going to scream, it'll be okay. Don't have your head right in front of me. I nodded.

Inhaling and then steeling herself, she said, "Go."

I pushed in, with a jab, and felt her hymen let go.

She screamed. LOUD. And, kept screaming for a moment. Her breath was rapid and in pulses, and I was SOOOOO glad she'd told me what to do. I wouldn't have known.

I mean, I might have known. I'd read stories about this kind of thing, but it's another thing to be there.

Sure enough, it was at least a minute, maybe closer to two, just hanging there, tense, waiting.

"Okay, now, slow, slow movements, and we'll work into it."

I did as she asked, back and forth, in and out, rocking into her and letting myself out.

There was NO part of masturbation that was anywhere close to as good as this. My hand was maybe 5% of the sensation quality.

Yet, that wasn't the only part.

We looked at each other in the eyes, deeply, and we had a set of moments where we were just staring and breathing together, locked in on each other, and I was on her, pushing inwards as she hugged me tightly, wanting more.

We didn't speak. We didn't need to.

Her breasts were cushions holding me up, but her legs wrapped around and touched the backs of my legs.

I went faster, and faster, and we both whimpered at the overwhelming feelings flowing in, until I couldn't anymore. "Ohhhrrrnnnn Yeyyysysszzzzzz ofrrrnnnnnngggggyahhhhhh fuuuuuuucckkkk..."

Spurting and clenching, I held her tightly and pushed in more, seeing stars and fireworks and all the Good Things. Clench after clench of cum-spurting-happy came from me and I shoved it all up as far as I could up in there, that beautiful pussy.

Her narration at that point went from gasping to 'yes' and 'oh, please, give me that, make that work" and "I feel you, your cum is in me, hot and slippery yessss...."

We slowed and I settled down on her, relaxing, aftershocks jerking through me and giving pulses of joy back to me.

"Am I too heavy?"

"Stay with me a minute, just rest your head."

I did as directed, And It Was Good.

Declining, I slipped out, and that was a good time to move, so I shifted to rest by her side. She bent down and grabbed the blankets to pull them up, and reached over to turn off the light.

That was something.

Sleep...

== Chapter: Sunday Almost ==

Waking up in the middle of the night, I thought I heard clinking from downstairs and I realized it was my mother, getting home and finding the dishes weren't done, something I almost always did.

The room door was open.

Beside me, Cleo was between me and exiting the bed. She'd obviously gotten up to use the bathroom or something and hadn't closed it.

My laptop screen was up and the screen saver was on something I'd missed apparently, but it made a night light.

So, she might see in and see I had a guest.

But, she would have hung her coat up and seen the extra coat there, too.

And, the kitchen chairs had towels on them because Cleo said we had to sit on towels, it wasn't sanitary not to.

So, Mom probably figured it out.

Either she would come upstairs and wake us up and kick Cleo out, or she'd ignore it and say something later.

I waited. Mom usually just came up to bed on nights like this, double shifts would do that, she said. I got it. It's a long time to be on duty.

Sure enough, I heard the stairs creak. My head was behind Cleo's, but I could see over.

Mom stopped at my door and looked in. I couldn't see her face, it was too dark, but I could see her head movements.

She nodded. It wasn't an exasperated nod - it was an approval nod, like, 'finally, a good thing'.

That filled me with love for her and happiness with what I'd found in Cleo.

Sleep came back.

== Chapter: Sunday Morning Happiness ==

Morning light streamed in and I knew it had to be past 8, late for me for sure, but I was pressing up against Cleo's back, my arm over her casually. I moved it and found my thumb was pressed up against the underside of her boob.

I moved it up and cupped her breast, pulling it towards me. My cock was strident against her, between her butt cheeks up her back.

If she was upset about that, she didn't... Oh. She shifted back into me and gave a wiggle and a tiny laugh. "My man is Awake!"

I pulse-squeezed her boob and said, "With you around, I'm amazed I could sleep."

"Took you long enough. I've been Horny since five."

"So you want to...?"

"Oh, no, can't. I'm awake, but I'm sore. Horny and uncomfortable sometimes go together. Girls get all the luck."

"Ah."

"Still. Blowjob?"

"Sure, if you're offering! Uhh... but... I gotta pee."

"Go pee. Come back. Wipe off, I might not like the taste of urine."

I shifted over and got out, opening the door and quickly dashing over to the bathroom.

Peeing through a boner isn't easy, but sometimes you gotta go when you gotta go.

I did pause by the sink and rinse myself off, standing on tiptoe. Cold water put a chill on me, but at least I was squeaky.

Back in the room, I shut the door again and came back to bed.

Cleo pulled me in, we got to kissing (despite a little morning breath) and she descended to pull me upright and give me a good servicing, jacking with her hand and getting farther down than I thought she could get. As time went on, she got farther and farther down, which is to say at least half my length.

It was a great blowjob, and I exploded into her mouth. She kept clamped on me and grunted a little as I came, working her jaw enough that I could tell she was swallowing fast.

Hearing the echoes of my own voice, I realized I hadn't been silent, and wondered what Mom had heard.

Regardless, Cleo pulled off looked at me with flared eyes and said, "Oh, yeah! Got me some Man-Spunk this morning! Gonna have to tell Mom about this part!"

I laughed and she laughed, too.

"Would you honestly tell your mother you sucked me off?"

"Sure, why not?"

I shook my head, "There's....oh, wow, so many ways I would never tell my mom that."

"Why? She's heard everything, you said so. Tell her."

I pretended to be talking with her and put on a fake formal voice, "Uh, yeah, Mom? Just so you know, I had three Really Really Excellent blowjobs - two last night, and one this morning, it was Awesome. Plus, Cleo's got like super-fabulous hooters and I felt her up while she was sucking my knob, you know? Moooooooost Excellent Suckage, I must say."

My voice had gotten silly by the end.

Cleo said, "I dare you."

"Not happening. Really, I don't want to make her feel bad. She's pretty, she should get a chance with her own boyfriend. If I said anything... I think it'd feel like I was rubbing it in, that I have a relationship and she doesn't. She might be lonely, I feel bad for her."

"You love her a lot."

"Duh! She's pretty epic, too."

Cleo's nod just led me to say the next part.

"You're epic, too. Just... a different way. Different epics. Different Epochs."

I sighed. "Time to get up. Think we need a shower?"

"Again?"

We stood up and I stretched, my half-up girth pointing out in front of me, my arms reaching for the sky, and I delighted in the stretching-noise "UrrrrRRRGgggg" I made.

She noticed my cock sticking out and bent down to look. "I have a certain itch. Maybe we could make an appointment for seconds?"

I dropped my arms and looked at her doing that. "Anytime, my bed and my heart are open to you."

"Suck-up." She stood and looked me in the eyes.

I smiled and felt a tenderness, looking at her. Still, she was a thinker, too, I could talk with her and not have to be overly guarded. Playing with the happy memory, I felt it and said, "You seemed to enjoy it... the... sucking." I moved in to hug her and we held each other for a minute, my cock pressing into her abdomen, or stomach, really, since I was half a head taller than she was.

Breaking the hug, she cocked her head to one side and said, "You know, I'm hungry. We slept a long time. Eleven hours. You must have needed it, Mr. Paper Writer."

"Yeah. I should check on that."

She got dressed and I just sat in my chair and opened my email. Andy had replied and left some revision notes - simple changes, and pointers that I needed to have a bibliography for citations to other papers I'd done off the cuff.

There were a couple of questions thrown in, too, like, "You knew this off the top of your head?"

I gave him a quick reply, "Will fix asap. Thanks for the pointers."

Cleo, reading over my shoulder in glances, was dressed before me and handed me underwear. "You'll want this."

I laughed and dressed, and we went down and got some breakfast. I was just going to have toast and a bowl of cereal, but she said, "No, sir, you get Good Breakfast this morning."

Ten minutes later we sat down to two omelets, two glasses of OJ, toast very lightly buttered.

She'd added to our fridge's shopping list: yogurt, bagels, light cream cheese, baby carrots, ranch dressing, etc.

Clinking our dishes and talking, we were soon interrupted by my mother coming downstairs.

"Good morning!"

We made introductions and Mom introduced herself to Cleo as Sarah. While Mom was standing there, Cleo was going to the cupboards and pulling out dishes, then heated the skillet again and asked, "Two-egg omelet? Cheddar and chives, onions? Pepper?"

Mom sat down and let herself be treated and seemed pretty happy with the service.

Cleo filled her in on basic details that I'd almost known - she'd hinted at - like grandparents, how long she'd lived in the area, sisters, all that.

The mention of sisters triggered something in my head.

Paired electrons - sisters - not born at the same time, but traveling together...

The thought went away again.

We ate the rest of the meal, and Cleo said, "I need to get home soon, I have a paper to write, but I haven't finished reading the book yet. Shoeless Joe, by Kinsella."

I smiled - I'd read it. "I love that one! Everyone dies at the end!"

Mom was aghast, "No, they don't!"

Apparently Mom had read it, too. It made sense, I'd gotten that off the shelf by the TV.

I laughed, "Yeah, but if Cleo thinks everyone's gonna die, and then they don't, then she's happy, and she might pay more attention and get a better grade."

We were standing up, and Cleo had already put our dirty dishes in the dishwasher.

Mom complimented Cleo and thanked her for the work.

Cleo and I went to the door and she got her coat on; I was going to walk her home but she said she knew I had a paper to edit.

We kissed for a long time and she left. I watched her walk down the block a little ways and saw her skip. I felt the same way.

Mom called to me, so I went to the kitchen; she was getting the saucepan hand-washed and put away. "So... 'three blowjobs', eh?"

"Uh.... You heard that?"

"We share a wall, Kevin. Cheap walls means too much sound."

I realized my porn-stroking sessions must have been audible before and I didn't realize it. "I'm so sorry, I didn't..."

"You're right, you know. I am young, I should get out more. I kind of fell into a rut. You were a handful when you were younger, and now... You don't need me as much."

"I guess...?"

"We both know. You're a high school senior, so yeah, you're going to have these chances, I guess... I'm letting you get away with something I NEVER would have gotten away with myself. My mother would have gone ballistic."

I could picture that, I remembered how Grammy was.

"So I have some rules."

"Okay?"

"Try to keep the door closed to your room when you're having a guest. If you're going to be up and ... 'busy', try to keep the noise level down, though it wasn't too bad this morning all things considered. And, text me when you have a guest, so I don't find out when there's an extra coat."

"Sorry." We hugged and we said our 'I love you's' and I went back upstairs, to work on stuff.

Thinking ahead, I texted Cleo 'Thank you, my head is spinning. It's a VERY GOOD spin, though."

She responded with a heart, and I got back to editing the paper.

The citations took longer than I thought they would, I wanted to be complete and realized one of my conclusions was based on an assumption, and I realized I could flesh that out a little more. I added a section talking about obvious alternatives that I'd ruled out for various reasons, most of them related to observable facts (stars were bigger than breadboxes).

I finished up the paper, emailed it off, and went down to get some dinner. Mom was watching some BBC series about rich people, and I sat next to her and turned to face her.

She paused it and looked over.

"What's up?"

"I'm worried that we're not good, from something I did. If I was... rude to you, or embarrassed you, or hurt you somehow."

She rolled her eyes, "Kev, come on. You had a good time last night? With a girl? This is great! I saw you with her, you were being nice, she was nice back, you seem like a good couple."

"She says she tells her mother everything."

"Girls do that. I don't count on that. Boys are wired differently. I've seen the wiring." Her nurse-face showed.

I didn't take the bait and laugh. "Cleo and I made love last night."

She chuckled, but her smile was a mile wide, hopeful, loving... "Sooo, you want advice? Encouragement?"

"Not encouragement exactly. Just... to not have big secrets from you, and this is kind of a huge deal in my life."

"Sex is not love, Kevin. You've known this girl a week?"

"Not quite. But, I like her a lot."

"I should hope so."

"You ... helped her out, too? Any complications? Is she on birth control?"

"I didn't ask. She was a virgin, too. Not sure if I should tell you that."

"It's fine. I'm not going to tell anyone, and besides, that can be painful. She seemed to be okay, though."

"She ... yeah, I think she's okay."

"She made you an omelet. Good sign. Did you give her... Uh..."

"Orgasms? Yes. Twelve."

Mom's eyes got big and she laughed, obviously disbelieving me. "Over the course of, what, fifteen seconds?"

I thought, looking up and counting. "One, a half hour between, Two, uh... then a set of them in a row over the course of about 20 minutes, maybe one every minute for 20 seconds--ish at a time, then kind of slowing down? Then up again, peaking and stuff, the whole body convulsing thing... another 45 seconds, then she'd catch her breath, and I'd put her up again."

My analytical mind was charting it like a graph, x was the time axis, non-sinusoidal sawtooth to square-wave then back to u-minimums, it was kind of fun to envision.

Mom's look at me turned to a squint. "Did you have anything to drink or ... substances, as part of this adventure? I know, sometimes those can help..."

I laughed, "No, no help. I read an anatomy text or two and that helped."

She looked at me sideways, with pursed lips. "Double check about the birth control. Not something to mess around with. If she's not on it, I know a good doctor that's fast, she can just stop by the hospital and it's a quick appointment."

"I'll ask."

I texted her and she replied quickly, "Depo shot, a month ago, good for another 2 months. Helps with pains plus Mom's got this nagging thing. Thanks for asking."

Reading this out to my mom, she smiled and nodded. "My work calendar is up. Feel free to have sleepovers. You're young enough, have fun."

I had one more thing. "I ... have some other news."

"Other? Not bigger, certainly."

"Almost? I kinda got into a college. Prof says he'll handle it."

"I figured you would. We're near a bazillion of them, and your grades are good."

"I won't have to cross the river."

She nodded and ask, "Tufts? Umass? I can't afford to..."

"M.I.T."

She looked at me funny. "You didn't take the SAT.... did you? Don't they need that?"

"I know a prof. He said he'd help me."

She was dubious, "Get that in writing. And, have lots of backup plans. That's pretty expensive."

"Yeah, I'm talking with him about that."

"All right, then. What's this professor's name?"

"Andy. Andrew Smithysmith. Good guy."

"Just ... take care you don't get scammed."

"Thanks."

I went upstairs and did the small amount of work I had left for homework for the next day. I could bang it out pretty fast, so I wrote what they needed for an English paper, and did a little composing on my symphony, adding smaller percussion parts and some Dynamics where I wanted it to swell or not.

Sleep came easily, though remembering Cleo I stroked off before going to sleep, sweet images of her fresh in my head.

== Chapter: Return to Normal School Stuff? ==

The next week was kind of crazy-hectic.

So was the week after, and the week after that.

In the background, I did the Other Things, the stuff Andy wanted me to work on.

Early, Andy had wanted an application packet, to 'lock things in', and to have me sign some things to send in the paper to Journal of the American Mathematical Society. We sent it off, oddly having to send a printed copy to them along with the signed versions.

Andy was SUPER against me using a pseudonym. He said, people are going to talk about this paper, and it needs to be legit. If it's just my initial and last name, there's a crapton of people named Kooper, they won't find me, and even if AMS needs my social security number, they're really practiced in keeping contact info secret if we say so.

Fine, I thought, sure.

I put on my real name ("K. F. Kooper")

To keep me earning money to pay for dates with Cleo (his joke, mostly Cleo and I just hung out at either her house or mine and did homework), I did his critique job.

That is, he'd send me papers, I'd write critiques, if he liked the critique enough he'd pay me $100 for it. I had a limit of $1000 a week for it, he said, because he had his department chair allocate funds for it, donated from a wealthy donor. He wasn't rich himself, and I wondered why if he was such a great professor he wasn't rich.

He laughed his butt off at that.

He said, "I'm not in it for the money. I like talking with butt-munches like you and watching some tiny part of quantum field theory get slightly farther down the road."

I liked Andy, a Lot. I loved that he referred to me as a 'butt-munch' - it seemed like a term of endearment.

We got closer to December break, and I realized I was going to have to think about just graduating at the semester and transferring off to MIT.

Since my music theory class required we turn in an original composition, I turned in my for-fun symphony to Mr. P. He was surprised at the thickness - most everyone had a single-page thing, or at most an arrangement for string quartet since that involved the least work in creating an arrangement. My work had parts for the whole orchestra (I'd had a blast doing that) as well as interspersed choral parts that sang some weird-ass stuff I pulled out of my butt.

It was high school, so I could be half-assed about a school assignment, but I had been working on the composition and arranging the whole semester and loving the adventure of it, but still struggling with what the parts would sound when put together. There's a real art to having one instrument do one thing, while another counterpoints.

I didn't know that what I'd done was usually saved for university-level music comp classes, and Mr. P told me it was perfectly legit to take my piece and re-use it for a college class, as long as I tweaked it a little. He was proud of me and it showed, and that built my ego quite a bit since I respected him, a lot like my running coach. He knew how to get the best out of people.

As for college, I was only mostly-decided to wait to go to MIT. The kicker was, if I went, I'd miss my friends, and finishing my senior year was really something I was really looking forward to.